


Fall to your knees, bring on the rapture

by Itgoeson



Series: I Think You're My Best Friend [5]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - College/University, Bickering, Communication, Cunnilingus, Established Relationship, M/M, Oral Sex, Trans Character, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-04
Updated: 2016-11-04
Packaged: 2018-08-29 02:00:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8471227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Itgoeson/pseuds/Itgoeson
Summary: Suga has a rough week. Daichi can fix that.





	

Moving in with Daichi wasn't awkward at all.

Suga hadn’t really thought about it beyond asking Oikawa what he’d done when he moved in with Iwazumi.

(Oikawa had wrinkled up his nose. “Refreshing-kun,” he’d said in his deepest voice, “please never ask me that again.”

“I’m not asking about how many people you fucked before Iwazumi finally brought someone home.” Suga smiled beatifically and Oikawa considered punching him. “I’m asking what it was like to live with your best friend.”

“Weird.”)

They have a system, now. Daichi cooks dinner after practice. He stays standing, stretching and moving just to work out the soreness. Suga sits at the table in the kitchen and pulls out his textbooks. Most of the time he ends up on Facebook, but it’s nice nonetheless. More often than that, he gets distracted talking to Daichi. Today is one of those days, Suga quietly heckling and occasionally returning to where he’s typing up his handwritten notes.

“You know, Oikawa is a human disaster, but you shouldn’t let him get to you.”

Daichi grunts, throws extra seasoning in with the meat. “He’s a pain in the ass.”

“You wish.”

“Please, can we not talk about how much you love Oikawa right now?”

“Depends, does it really bother you, or are you pretending it bothers you?”

Daichi hums. “Both?”

Suga stand and wraps his arms around Daichi. They’re the same height, which makes hugging a little awkward sometimes, so Suga settles for resting his chin over Daichi’s shoulder. “I’d never do anything with him that you’re not comfortable with. We’re best friends. Who also want to rip each other’s spleens out occasionally,” he says cheerfully. 

“I know, I know. It’s just surprising sometimes. He’s arrogant.”

“He’s dedicated. And overworks himself. And grumpy. Who does that remind you of?” 

Knowing he’s scored a point, Suga sits back down and makes it through another page of typing before Daichi speaks again. “You’re right. He’s just frustrating. I don’t have a problem with the two of you. Or him.”

“I’m always right. Now what’re you making me?”

“Leftovers.”

“Again?”

“You don’t even play volleyball, Suga, how are you always this hungry?”

“All you do is play volleyball, I wouldn’t expect you to know what I do all day.”

“We share a bedroom,” Daichi says flatly, unimpressed and, frankly, a little confused. Suga’s tone is getting sharper. He’d thought it was friendly bickering, until —

“Barely. Can I just finish this before you start insulting my friends or my time management again?”

“We agreed Oikawa wasn’t a problem!”

Suga slams his notebook closed and moves to shut his laptop. Daichi purses his lips and throws his hands in the air. “Pause! Suga, hold on, just. Sit still for a second.”

He does, but still looks angry. Daichi’s unsure of why they’re fighting, or if this even is a fight. He turns off the flame on the stove and leans back against the counter. Just before he crosses his arms, he realizes that Suga’s eyes have turned slitted, and he rests them behind him on the edge of the counter instead. That looks friendly enough, he’d guess. 

“What’re you working on?” he fishes, trying to de-escalate until he can figure out what’s going on.

“O-Chem.”

Right. Well. At least one of them is putting a sincere effort into being helpful here. Daichi drags out a slow breath and glances at the time. His gaze catches on the grocery list tacked to their fridge. On it, Suga’s written “tampons” with an exaggerated frowny face. 

“Suga?” he asks slowly.

“Yes?”

“Are you about to start your period?”

Suga huffs. “It’s been a busy month. I’ve lost track. Are you going to tell me it’s my time of the month because I’m bitchy? Swear to god, Daichi, I will move into the second bedroom for a year if you try that shit.”

“Kind of?”

Daichi smiles as Suga makes a sound like a cat dunked in a bucket of water. It’s high-pitched, from the back of his throat, and has Daichi seriously considering if it’s worth it to duck and cover.

Daichi is extremely in love with this man.

“Stop that.” Instead of running, he closes in on Suga, dropping to his knees when he’s close enough and curling his hands around Suga’s ankles. “You get bitchy when you’re horny, loser. And you’re wet for, like, a solid week before your period.”

“Constantly,” Suga agrees, licking his lips. He looks like he’s trying to decide whether to be angry or turned on. Daichi congratulates himself on a job well done and makes the decision easy for him.

“Kiss me?”

Suga makes a noise of assent and leans over to lick into Daichi’s mouth. It’s sloppy, the way Suga secretly likes best, and demanding. Daichi moans into his mouth and starts to run his hands up Suga’s legs. 

“There we are, Koushi,” he pants when Suga’s drawn back to glare at him.

Suga widens his legs and pouts. “I’m sorry,” he admits. “I didn’t realize that I was.” He covers his face with his hands, and Daichi chuckles. 

“It’s okay. We’ve both been busy. And it’s not usually this bad, is it?”

“Not even nearly. But I’ve been trying to find time to get off for days, but I fucking suck at it without you, and an old lady told me off in front of my manager today. I’m about to lose it.”

Daichi licks down his neck, strips his shirt off and sucks at a collarbone. “That’s okay. Just try to let me know next time instead of fighting, yeah?”

“I didn’t even realize. I was just. In the mood to fight, I’m sorry.” Suga runs his hands through Daichi’s hair in apology, kneads at his neck, digs a thumb in at the muscle in his jaw that Daichi always clenches. It’s got Daichi melting, and he drops down to nip and suck at Suga’s stomach. He tugs at the waistband of Suga’s slacks, unbuttoning them when Suga hitches his hips to make room for Daichi to take them off. 

“Can make it up to me by coming for me, yeah?”

Suga lets out a tiny moan. He leans back up to steal it from his mouth and rubs three fingers over Suga’s clit, pressing down on his folds above it. He stays like that for a bit, firm circles with his fingers, trailing kisses up and down Suga’s body until he’s just starting to get noisy.

They have a routine about everything, about dinner and dishes, shopping and sleeping. Sex isn’t all that much different. They’re nearly used to each other, nearly memorized.

“Doing okay Suga?” Daichi asks, panting. When Suga nods frantically and widens his legs further, he beams. “Perfect, so perfect. Stay just like that. Want you to feel good. Want you to know how well you’re doing.”

Above him, Suga whines loudly. “Love you, Daichi, I — thank you.”

“Know you love me, Koushi. I know.” Daichi nuzzles at one of Suga’s spread thighs. “Know you work so hard, you’re doing so well, Koushi, you’re amazing.”

He runs two fingers over Suga’s pussy, sliding in the wetness. He rubs it over Suga’s clit, biting gently at his thigh when he lets out a hiss at the direct contact.

“Good for you?”

He gets a frantic nod in reply, Suga’s hips pushing forward. “In me, please,” Suga rasps out.

It’s a good tone on him. Daichi can’t help but listen, lean forward as he spreads Suga’s cunt with two fingers and lick up, side-to-side, in broad strokes. Suga lets out a pained sounding grunt. Daichi knows how this looks.

He thinks about that — the picture he makes desperately licking at Suga — and reaches down to palm at his own erection. He’s watched enough porn to know how hot he looks, and he’s watched enough porn with his hand down Suga’s pants to know that Suga’s more than a little into this. 

(The scenes flash through his mind rapid-fire. Sitting with Suga cradled between his hips, two fingers inside him and thumb stroking softly at his clit, not trying to get him off, just feeling the way he clenched and bucked and shivered at what happened on screen, the way he got slicker and looser when someone took their time going down on their partner. Them sitting side by side, hips touching, Suga’s leg slung over Daichi’s, their hands inside each other’s boxers, snickering at the bad dialogue on-screen. Showing each other their favorite videos to get off to.)

Daichi closes lips over his clit and presses his tongue against it, groaning at the mental images. He could spend forever getting Suga off. 

He pulls away to tell him so. 

“Could do this forever Suga,” he says, slipping a finger into him, then two when it’s loose and slick and perfect. 

Suga nods, eyes wide and shining, mouth parted. “More, please.” His voice is shivery, deep and thick.

Daichi pumps a third finger into him and sucks on his clit. His free hand smooths over Suga’s chest, scratches at his stomach, and comes to rest tangled with Suga’s hand. He squeezes it as Daichi slips his fourth finger into Suga, frigging him in earnest now, shallow thrusts and soft curls at his g-spot, tongue swirling on his clit. 

He comes with a soft sigh. His thighs tense up, shoulders bunching and eyes squeezing shut. Daichi thinks he might come just from the way he clenches down on his fingers, the way his toes dig into his back and his legs shiver next to his ears. 

Daichi grins up at him, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. “Any better?”

“Lots,” Suga answers lazily. He stretches and nudges Daichi’s head with a thigh. “Anything you need to put in the fridge?”

“Too late now, I’d think, unless — oh, right, round two is good, too.”

He watches Daichi wrap up their half-made dinner and store it in the fridge. Walking looks a little uncomfortable for him. It makes Suga grin. “Need you in me, Daichi.”

He fumbles with the rice, nearly dropping the bowl. 

“Not fair.”

Suga shrugs. “You knew this about me. Now c’mon, I’ve got to get my homework done, I won’t have time tomorrow.”

“What’s tomorrow?”

“Hair appointment and, apparently, more sex.” He stretches his arms out and twists his spine. His whole body feels better, now, less tense. 

Daichi rolls his eyes and smiles, stepping back between Suga’s legs to drop a kiss softly onto his mouth. “Could always just stop dying your hair, if it’s such a hassle.”

“I’d rather die and, frankly, the fact that you think I’d ever stop is offensive.”

“Oh really.”

“It’s okay though. I know how you can make it up to me,” he chirps. 

“Think so?”

“Know so,” he says, standing and tugging at Daichi’s wrist. “And it starts with me blowing you.”

He says it casually, like they have a routine for it. And they do — Suga likes leverage, likes control and to feel sure of himself. He’ll strip Daichi slowly, push him back on the bed, and start out slow, getting the shape of what the sex will be like. Daichi’s orgasm is a secondary target for Suga, incidental. He’ll map out what feels best today, any day, what kind of pace they need.

Dachi shivers and follows without resistance. 

They’re young and boring, maybe, with their routines. Suga does homework and cleans, and Daichi cooks and works out and naps while Suga goes to the store. They have a budget posted on a pinboard by the door, schedules below that. They write messages to each other in expo marker on the mirror, and Suga will draw dicks in the condensation in the mirror after his shower for Daichi to find afterwards because they’re twenty-three and stupid. 

Neither of them mind. Suga runs his hands under Daichi’s shirt as he kicks the door closed and grins. 

“This doesn’t feel like me making it up to you.”

“What’s mine is yours and what’s yours is mine,” he says, laughing. “Including punishment.”

Daichi swats at him and rolls his eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


End file.
